


Heart of Gold, Tongue of Silver

by Angelicfall67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Captivity, Historical AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Seriously look at the tags this is going to be dark, Slavery, Torture, Violence, dark!Sam, dragon!dean, experimetation, hurt!Dean, prince!Dean, prince!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2584115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelicfall67/pseuds/Angelicfall67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's known as the Age of Dragons, when man and beast fight to claim the Earth. Dean Winchester, the prince of the Dragons, has gone on a journey to find his missing father John, the King of Dragons. His travel leads him to the Duke's of Campbell, forcing him to make a deal with Sam Campbell, the Prince and enemy of his own. Under the terms of their contract, Dean will have to keep his mind from breaking, while also keeping his kingdom safe. Sam is intent on finding every secret about dragons that he can from Dean, while also trying to keep the stubborn prince under his own control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Search

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I really suck at summaries. Seriously, it's better than it sounds! Enjoy, and leave feedback please! Oh, and a special thank you to my beta and co-author for with this fic, samalambis.  
> She's simply amazing, and I couldn't do this fanfic without her!

It was the age of dragons. They have always been on Earth, these creatures strong and proud. Some even say that they were the first creatures created. For thousands of years, dragons kept to themselves, out of humans eyes. Then, a rebellion began. Blood crazed dragons began attacking villages, overthrowing their own rulers. It was as if hell had brought itself to Earth. The humans began fighting back, figuring out that silver could hurt a dragon. If stabbed in the heart, it would kill them. If their wings were injured, they were considered dead, and thus left behind. So, dragons kept away from the Northern kingdom. It was a hunters territory, lead by the Dukes of Campbell. No creature that had gone into that forest ever came out. 

Dean had been raised by his father since he was a mere fledgling. Humans had killed his mother, and John had retaliated. Legends of the large dragon with black scales floated throughout the lands, of his ferocity and blood lust. Ferocious John was. In his dragon form, he stood nearly the height of any commoners house, with wings spanning the skies. He raided villages granaries for food for their kind, and destroyed without hesitation.

Dean had grown up a warrior under his father. His own scales were golden, and though he was already quite large, as tall as a mountain horse with a wingspan nearly his own height, he was still growing. His father had left him a month ago to strike an attack against the Campbell kingdom. A month, and Dean hadn't heard a word, nor a single rumor of him Their army would be lost without the dragon, so Dean left Bobby, a trusted friend, in charge of them. 

He traveled to the kingdom and changed into his human form just outside of the border. In his human form, he was like any other; aside from one thing. He had golden scales littered across his body, which he covered up with clothes he'd brought with him, made from simple wool along with a large cloak to keep him completely concealed. Getting into the Campbell Kingdom was the easy part. Dean walked around the local market, listening for any rumors about the black Dragon. Occasionally stealing a few golden bracelets and necklaces from the stands when humans weren't paying attention and stuffing them into his pockets. Those would come in handy later.

The strange thing about humans, Dean mused silently as he walked around the market, was that they seemed to wear gold for no other reason than to just wear it. Gold hung off of wrists and necks as if they were nothing more than pretty decorations to look at. It baffled him as to why human’s didn't use the gold for it’s magical properties. There were magicians in the market as well. Wizards and mages, all capturing the attention of the human’s with promises of spells to make a person richer, or to make someone fall in love with them. It was all simple trickery, Dean noted as he passed one of the stands. It was nothing more than false promises of happiness brought upon by greed. These human’s wouldn't know what true magic was unless they were faced with it head on. His stomach’s rumbling brought him out of his thoughts, and so Dean made his way out of the market, passing by a stand that had freshly baked bread set out on display. A simple swipe of his hand and he was on his way, the human’s none the wiser of the stolen food. 

Finding a place to stay would be his first task. He had no clue how long he would be searching in this kingdom for his father. He had left Bobby in charge of their people, trusting the man more than anyone else. Their king was missing, and now their prince had disappeared on a near suicidal mission, one that Dean knew he may not return on. This was something he needed to do. Without their king, it would be up to Dean to rally the forces against the armies of Campbell. The Campbell kingdom was a known powerful one. Its military acknowledged throughout all lands to be the most ferocious on the battlefield, and without his father’s help, Dean wasn't sure he could take them down on his own.

.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.

Warriors, hardened by the harsh cold winds that blew down from the mountains lining their borders and trained to survive and kill by any means necessary; it was no shock to any of the neighboring rulers that the Dukes of Campbell and all of their descendants would easily survive the Age of Dragons. A hundred years had come to pass, and their suspicions had led to be correct. While they all fell to the dragons might, the Campbell’s held strong, the abundance of silver that lined thickly their mountain ranges perhaps being the key to their powerful forces. Silver could kill the beasts if struck to the heart, this discovery made in the early years of the war by the northern kingdoms general, Colt. Without his knowledge perhaps even the mighty Campbells would have fallen in enough time.

Once enough dragons perished by the blades of the Hunters, a branch of military focused solely on hunting the supernatural threats of the world whose central hub was the Campbells harsh lands, the draconic race simply stopped their attacks. The creatures put their focus elsewhere, choosing to find easier prey and leaving the northern world in harmony. This avoidance of their lands lead many to migrate there, and though most died on the roads, those who did manage to arrive found that life there was indeed peaceful. Among the brutes and warriors that were the most told in legends, the immigrants found that many of them were well versed in the arts of renaissance, and not simply mindless grunts to be thrown in the woes of war when words could not grant peace. Campbell soon became a safe haven for those stricken by war and left without a home to return. While many kingdoms fell to ruin, Campbell thrived, the country self-sustaining and able to withstand the grief that this hundred year war has wrought.

John, Dean’s father, had thought it best to destroy the Campbells from the inside. The dragon hadn't thought of the consequences, or rather, he hadn't cared of such things. He had set out to the lands on his own, blinded by his own rage for human’s. This plan, as he would later find out, would be the one thing to lead to his own downfall. The Hunters were more prepared than he had anticipated, bringing the massive black dragon down with only a few casualties, though they didn't kill him. No, there were plans for this dragon.

.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.

The sun was far on its course, nearly disappearing beyond the forested horizon, when Sam Campbell, the eldest son of the Duke, was given news that he had been eagerly awaiting. He had been in his study when the letter man arrived, working on his newest thesis on why magic levels differ between the dragon species and the humans. Believing it had something to do with the dragons inherent connection to the times of old, he had set about gathering scales and bones from the beasts in hopes of being able to find something in them that could help his theory. The hunter he had set out to collect more components, Jo, returned with something far greater than what he was expecting. She and her companions did not return merely with flesh and organs, instead, the group managed to wound the dragon who had attacked a nearby trade posts wings, rendering it flightless. That wasn't the part that shocked him and filled him with excitement, no, they somehow knocked the thing out, chaining it down to a cart with thick iron and were on course to bring him the creature. They had hopes his thorough studies into dragon’s biology and behavior would help further understand the monsters and find quicker, more efficient ways to end them. A live study would do better than decayed scraps and pieces, they figured. Sam didn't care their reasoning, he would soon have a live dragon in captivity. A live one!

Before he let himself get carried away by thoughts of what he could learn, the experiments he could now put into practice, he turned sharply on his heels and grabbed the messenger by the biceps, shaking the young man with a near feral grin on his face.

“This is wonderful! Simply amazing! Do you not understand what I could learn from this? What we could all learn?” Sam said, nearly breathless from the elation he was feeling. It was incredible, this find, all the possibilities that could now be explored. However… he would need a way to cage the beast, positive it wouldn't simply lay back and let him experiment. His father wouldn't be allowed to know either, this needed to be kept secret. Releasing the boy he looked to his paper strung up over the walls, each containing different details on the subspecies of dragons and how their behaviors and physique differ. The Duke of Campbell never approved of Sam’s curiosity in the creatures, feeling that it would only hinder his son’s political standing. It was already shaky at best, the young lord rarely attending social events and showing no interest in ruling the kingdom once the Duke passed. Sam didn't care much, knowing that once he got his hands on this live sample, then perhaps he could find something out about these monsters that no else had, perhaps prove that they are more than mindless, that they are sentient beings similar to humans. He’s suspected for some time now that they might have intelligence, after careful studies on their attack patterns, it suggested more than a beast’s average mind.

“Run back and tell them to take it to my study in the forest and let no one else know, Jo will know the location.” Sam said, quick as he began to pack quills and ink, rolling his parchments and gathering supplies. “For your troubles.” He added, tossing a small bag of coins at the letters man before returning to packing what he had assembled into a bag. “This has to be kept secret.” He muttered, looking out the window as the messenger quickly ran off to Jo, leaving Sam alone in his study to pack. He wouldn't be allowed much time outside his kingdoms walls, but he should be given at least a day out of his week as to not raise much suspicion from his father. This opportunity will not go to waste.


	2. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've noticed the differences in the writing yet, that's because there are differences. Samalambis is the one who writes for Sam. I am the one who writes for Dean. We collaborate to put our writing together into this amazing fanfic, and it flows rather amazingly, in my opinion. So, just to be clear. She is the writer of Sam, and I am the writer for Dean.

A month. It had been a month since he’d arrived in this place, and yet he’d heard no word on any sighting of his father. Finding a place to stay had been rather easy. Slip the inn keeper a few extra pieces of gold, and the man had been happy to keep quiet about Dean staying there. Human’s were so fickle, ready to do anything for a mere few pieces of gold. Everyday he ventured into the kingdom, listening to the gossip while stalking around the castle for any openings or weak places. A month, and his patience had run out. 

If he wanted real answers, then the palace would be the first place to start. The palace was huge, it’s walls reaching to the heavens, having been built to last through just about anything. Guards always patrolled around the grounds, and Dean had spent the last two weeks learning their schedule. One guard would leave to meet with a commoner every day to fool around, an act that would no doubt get him punished if he were ever found out. It left Dean an opportunity to slip inside of the palace, and he was seizing that chance today. 

Dressed in his cloak, the hood concealing his face, he waited in the shadows for his chance. On time, just like always, the guard stepped away with a woman and Dean waited for a moment before he went to the door. It wasn't even locked, making it easy for him to slip inside. He found himself faced with a set of stairs that went up, so he followed them, walking silently and keeping his eyes out for anyone else. The stairs lead up to a rather long hallway with multiple doors. The walls were decorated in expensive tapestries, but Dean paid them no mind as he slowly made his way down the halls.

Footsteps sounding behind him, coming from the stairwell that he had just came from made him freeze for a moment. They were getting closer, and he saw that he didn't have a choice. Dean quickly made his way into the closest room to him, closing the door behind him and waited, his heart pounding in his chest. As soon as whoever had walked past finally left, Dean let out a breath, leaning against the door. 

.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.

A month. It had been a month since Jo had managed to capture the dragon and yet, out of the five days Sam’s managed to snag to himself and study the creature, most of it has been spent trying to house it properly. The beast was massive, far larger than any dragon Sam had been witness to –or battled- before. It’s height was taller than that of a commoners house, wingspan an impressive amount of feet. Sam would love to see them fully spread out, but when Jo takes out a dragon’s wings, she takes them out, the joints at the base crumpled and twisted. The only way for Sam to see them in their full glory would be to force the bones into place, and with the dragon still not completely contained, he was asking to lose an arm, or worse, his life. The only thing he was able to obtain from the beast were its scales, a rare color of black he hadn't seen before. Almost obsidian in their shade, they were beautiful and not to mention fresh, not old and cracked like all the others he had collected before.

But he’s used scales time and time again, only so much data could be recovered from the small bits, and the lack of research he’s gathered so far is driving him insane. The dragons behavior has suggested nothing but that of a frightened animal driven to a corner; not a sign of intelligence. Nothing is going as Sam had hoped, but surely it was only because it wasn't properly chained down? The iron could only do so much, and replacing it was becoming more of a hassle than Jo and her group had agreed to. By the seventh time they rechained the beast they offered to kill it, and despite how little research he’s managed to gain, Sam couldn't bare part with it yet. There had to be more to be found, these magnificent creatures couldn't be the mindless monsters everyone assumed. He just needed to find an easier way to keep the beast down and docile.

Thus here he was, in his study pulling his hair out in frustration. He figured perhaps magic could quell the beast long enough to really start his experimentation, but even his spells were not that powerful. His alchemy set was out, herbs and potions of different sorts scattered about and littering all shelves and tables, some even leaking out to the floor. He had no care for the chemical smell in the air, already used to the stench long ago when he first began dabbling into alchemy. His servants however, did not, most clearing his sector of the castle and attending elsewhere. So he was more than surprised to hear the back door to his study fly open and shut within a second, heavy breathing and the rustle of cloth catching his attention. Strange, his servants only ever used the front entrance.

He slowly set down his newest concoction, a strange blue liquid that smelled faintly of burnt hair, before turning to the darkened corners where the back door was located. The figure had not yet noticed him it seemed, focused intently on peering through the crack they had left open. The outline was not of anyone he recognized, their actions certainly not belonging to any servant or maid and so in silent alarm he reached down to grip the hilt of his sword. Even if they had no harmful intents towards him it was better safe than sorry, and conflict in his study would not be the wisest of decisions right now. His potions and reagents, though most harmless, some were highly explosive and others acidic to flesh. He crept forward as slow as a cat stalking a mouse, heel first and rolling to the balls of his feet to ensure silence.

Once a few feet shy from the stranger he unsheathed his weapon, the silver blade giving a quiet whistle as it slid from its holster. The noise certainly giving him away, he prepared himself, muscles clenched in anticipation and prepared to spring into action if necessary.

“You there, what business do you have?” He asked slowly, head angled down and eyes hard. He hadn't the time for petty thieves or lost strangers, he needed to find a way to calm the dragon long enough to finally begin his real research before its wrath became simply too much to restrain. Even now, as he faced down a potential adversary, his mind was hard at work figuring ways to house the beast properly. A spell designated to the dragons brain might work well enough, use the right amount of sparks magic as to not be lethal and it might muddle it long enough to go limp; at the same time however it could send it into a blind rage while permanently damaging the creature. If he could create the perfect potion then perhaps he wouldn't have to risk killing it in his procedures. Nonetheless, the sooner he gets this person gone the sooner he could return to his research.

.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.

Dean cursed under his breath when the realization that he’d almost been caught finally hit him. He would have to be more careful in the future during his explorations around the castle. The smell in this room was horrid, and he wondered idly just where he was even at. The sound of a voice broke him out of his thoughts, and once more, Dean cursed himself for not paying attention. He turned around, briefly looking at the man in front of him, the sword doing nothing to intimidate him. He was use to facing threats, and a human was barely a threat to him.

Ignoring the human for now, he looked around the room from under the cloak, taking in the various potions and herbs on the desk. Was this human one of those magic users? The various potions on the desk were leaking onto the floor, and some of the pages, from what Dean could see, were in his own language.

What really caught his eyes, however, was the black scale on the desk. He knew that scale because he'd grew up next to his father his entire life. Ignoring the man, Dean made his way over to the desk, picking the scale up with a delicacy he very rarely showed. It both made his blood boil, the thought of human's capturing his father. How dare they? How dare a human lay their hand upon his father? With no thought to the human in the room with him, Dean muttered under his breath in an ancient language, and the scale began glowing softly in his hands for a few moments. In those few moments, he felt his father’s pain and anger from his capture, along with a hint of fear. When the glowing on the scale stopped, he left out a breath of relief. If his father was dead, there would have been no reaction at all.

"Where did you get this? Where's the dragon you got this from? He's not dead, so don't you dare lie to me," He said lowly, finally turning his attention to the human, green eyes narrowing at the man from under the hood. A few more muttered words from the ancient language and he felt overwhelmed with emotions from his father- anger, such rage, and fear. Fear was something his father never showed. The overwhelming emotions nearly made him fall to his knees, but he held firm, standing to his full height and squaring his shoulders. "Bring me to the dragon this scale came from. He's injured and scared- you're a magic user, but based on what I've felt you're weak. So bring me to him, and I'll spare your life."  
He slid the piece of scale into the bag at his side, suddenly grateful for collecting the gold he had. If his father was injured, he would need all of the gold to heal him and help the dragon regain its strength.  
.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.  
Sam wasn't sure he should be insulted or appalled at how the man regarded him with nothing more than a bored gaze. He may not be the strongest magic user, but he was known throughout his kingdom as being one of the best warriors, the only other people rivaling his skills being Jo and his own father. Yet this person had looked at him as if he was simply an annoying pest that if ignored long enough would go away. Does the man not know who he is? Sam may not call on his title often but he made sure that he was given proper respect from others.

The stranger brushed past him, Sam far too shocked at the dismissive behavior to stop him. He instead turned and watched the cloaked figure move about his study, hazel eyes wide and mouth clenched in a fine line as the strangers hands brushed over his parchments, fingers tapping the glass surfaces of the potions and making Sam’s skin crawl. Those were not to be messed with, and most certainly not to be dawdled over by some man who had practically broken into his room! He had half a mind to call for the guards or simply use his own force when the stranger halted in his movements. Sam couldn't see much, but judging by the rigid tension that began to emanate from the man he assumed something caught his attention. Everything this person was viewing was private research, not yet made public, and so the sudden interest made the young lord finally burst into action, stomping his way over with his sword arm at the ready.

Before he could open his mouth and demand more forcefully what he was doing here the stranger turned to him, an odd sort of emerald glowing softly from under the hood and Sam had to squint his eyes to make out the shape of eyes. Those were not the kind of eyes any normal human had, they felt too bright, too sharp. The vibrant green an achingly familiar shade that Sam did not want to think about at the current moment, mind shutting that memory down as he reminded himself now was not the time. Thinking back to his studies in magics he tried to recall anything to do with an abnormal shade of eye color. He hadn't much more time to think when the man before him began speaking, glaring up at him with a seething hatred that almost made Sam want to step back if the other wasn't trespassing on his property and private study room.

“You,” Sam began to say, but stopped short when the man looked back to the dragon scale in his hand, which he should most definitely not be in possession of, and muttered a language that he could not place. Was it a spell? This stranger could be a powerful mage, which would explain the strange eyes. If so, this wasn't good. Steel was a good a weapon as any, but against a powerful magician it could be as useless as a rag doll, judging how the swordsman was to use their skills. His hand clenched where it held his sword, sweat beginning to gather on his brow as he lowered his eyebrows and stood as tall as he could. He was larger than most, and knew his size at times could be intimidating. It would most likely be a useless notion to attempt such trivial threats against a possible mage, but his options were currently limited with the guards and servants steering clear of his study while he experimented with alchemy.

Whatever phrase this stranger had uttered only intensified the man's supposed hatred against Sam, voice low and wrathful as he demanded to see the dragon the scale belonged to. Whoever this man was certainly had gall, threatening Sam so blatantly and demanding passage to his greatest untapped potential of knowledge. The possible magic user anchored his body, straightening his spine and teeth nearly bared as he looked directly into Sam’s eyes. It would be threatening, his words, if they hadn't lighted anger in the prince. Sam was not a man one could simply promise abuse, he was a natural born hunter and heir to the throne of the strongest kingdom in the land. He wouldn't quietly compromise. Especially when his research was threatened.

“Your words bring me laughter, stranger.” He started, backing up a few paces until his back bumped one of his many tables lightly. While his left hand kept a firm grip on his sword's hilt, his right blindly searched behind him for a vial or potion. He knew this study as he did the composition of magic, and knew easily where to find his paralyzing reagents without the use of his eyes. “You certainly have guts, addressing me in such a manner.” Sam said, positive he found the right vial and letting it rest in his palm out of sight of the stranger. He was confident this would stop the man if he tried anything, as he had yet to see his powerful elixir fail him. He had to ensure the safety of his research, and would do anything to keep it secured.

.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.

When the man stood to his full height, a good few inches taller than himself, he narrowed his eyes, taking a step towards the human. He felt a satisfaction when the man backed away, the natural predator inside of him humming it's approval. Whoever this human was, he apparently thought he would be able to fight Dean and survive. Any other time, he would have found this amusing, but now was certainly not the time.

"I don't have time to waste on a human," Dean bit out, taking a few steps towards the taller man, looking up at him from under the cloak, his green eyes narrowing. "The dragon you captured is injured and needs care. He's angry. Whatever you're doing to him will only incur his wrath. I've seen it, and believe me," He stopped right in front of the man, a small smile coming to his face. "You won't wish to see him when he's angry."

He knew he could take the man down, force him to lead him to the dragon, but sometimes, gathering information didn't require force. "You took my dragon," He said simply, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at the human. "You heard me, human. The dragon that these scales are from belongs to me. You've harmed him. Thank your Gods I haven't killed you yet."

Taking the scale from his pocket, he ran a hand over the edge with a sort of fondness in the gesture. "I've been looking for my dragon, ever since he disappeared. I've come to take him home with me. You've done enough harm to him. Bring me to him, or he will kill you all. I believe you want to avoid any unnecessary deaths, yes? You've had him long enough to know you can't contain him. You will never be able to control him. No one can control a dragon."

Setting the scales back into his pocket, Dean reached out and tangled a hand in the man's shirt, once again ignoring the sword. His hood fell off when he tilted his head to look at the man. "Now. Bring me to my dragon, and I'll spare your life. If you don't? I'll stand by and watch as he tears everyone apart. I'm the only one that can stop him. Now, do as I say, or I will let him do as he pleases. Don't push my generosity."  
.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.

Sam eyed the other man carefully, schooling his features and keeping himself tense. If it came down to it, he would fight with any means necessary. While other fighter factions believed in fair duels and chivalry, the Hunters were of the rare few who used any dirty trick in the book to down their foe. Perhaps the unique fighting style arose from dealing with more vile prey than many could stomach, after all, survival was more important than honor if you asked any wizened Hunter. The scholar weighted the bottle, calculating how much force he would need to apply in his hit to shatter the glass and dispel its contents on the stranger.

It was already strange enough, having this intruder here. Sam was of the firm belief that having a possible mage who knows a language that he of all people could not recognize in his personal study demanding to see a dragon no one should know the whereabouts of could not possibly get weirder. Yet it did, the intruder speaking and referring to Sam as a human, something of which he had no time to waste on, put the hunter’s mind to hard work. The way the other had said it so fluently did not bode well with Sam, perhaps this stranger was not a man but a beast, which could explain the eyes. The one other person -no, creature- whom he had known that possessed such vibrant eyes was found to be something not of his species, and unlike any Sam had ever studied. If he was in the presence of another like it, he would have to dispose of this problem quickly, and as efficiently, as possible. To make matters worse this man, or beast, claimed to know the dragon Sam currently has contained. They could merely be false words to garner information, but Sam was not so closed minded as to write off the possibility entirely. He would have to be very careful about what he chose to say, especially if he gave the very notion of lying bodily harm was promised.

Sam perhaps would have spoken then, questioned who this stranger was and why he even thought Sam had the dragon at all. It could just as well be he had found the scale on one of his trips to the wilderness, nothing in his study bared clues to his connection to the beast. He had ensured it on the off chance that if the enraged beast was ever found nothing would lead back to him. No one else aside from Jo's group knew of his lab hidden away in the woods. As Sam opened his mouth to speak the other man relaxed his position, crossing his arms and speaking right over whatever Sam attempted in a smug tone. The stranger certainly enjoyed speaking. So now the dragon apparently belonged to this stranger, who in the past five minutes, has managed to threaten his life at least twice now. If the words held any truth at all, Sam may chance have bitten off more than he could chew. Oh but the wondrous words did not end there, the man continued on, saying how he had been searching for his 'pet' for some time now, and if it was not returned in a timely manner then he would invite the wrath of him and the dragon. 

His words however, seeded an idea in Sam's mind. Control. He had not thought of that. He had merely wanted to subdue the beast long enough to gather information like none other, but had he been thinking too small? He was certainly the most well versed human when it came to dragons, could he pull off more than simple studies? He had faith that he could, and would follow up on this idea as soon as he rid his life of this man.

Bring him to the dragon, was the the next demand, one which almost made Sam laugh. No matter if this stranger was a powerful mage or supernatural beast, he has dealt with many other ferocious creatures, this one might prove more challenging, but nothing Sam could not handle. Generosity was what the man claimed he had shown, and if there was any of it, he had yet to see it. Distantly, Sam noted the others hood falling down, spikes of dirty blonde hair falling loosely around a face that seemed ethereal, inhuman in its contortions. However he had no time to dwell on this, the moment dragging on far too long, and Sam has something far more worth his time to study. He already had leads as to how he would go about taming such a magnificent creature, ones which sorely begged to be tested.

"I am certain the dragon does indeed belong to you..." He paused, planning to give some name to the person before him but halting due to how wasteful it would prove. "However, I am afraid I can't allow you to see it. It's very important to my research so if you would gladly," raising an arm fast and with reflexes gained through years as a Hunter, he smashed the paralyzing elixir down unto the strangers head, "take a moments rest and rethink your words, I would vastly appreciate it."

.... . .- .-. - / --- ..-. / --. --- .-.. -.. / - --- -. --. ..- . / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.


End file.
